


I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)

by estrella30



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Schmoop, nothing bad happens I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:26:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2697896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estrella30/pseuds/estrella30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick feels himself start to laugh. He goes over and pulls Aimee into a hug, tucking her head against his chest and snugging his arms around her waist and back. “I’m just teasing,” Nick says, then apologizes. “Sorry, love.”</p><p>He feels like he’s doing that a lot lately. <i>Sorry for having to put the show on hold for two months so I can get my stupid busted heart fixed</i> and, <i>sorry that you have to take care of my dog because I’ve got nowhere else to leave her while I’m here</i> and, <i>sorry I’ve got this thing going on in my chest that might make me die if I don’t fix it right away</i>. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Nick wants to get the surgery over and done with just so he can possibly never have to say the word <i>sorry</i> to anyone about his health again. </p><p>OR - Nick is in hospital to have a heart surgery and Harry is is nurse</p>
            </blockquote>





	I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serenityandtea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenityandtea/gifts).



> for serenityandtea!! I hope this fits your prompt well enough, babe! I tried to get a bunch of Harry being sweet and Perrie being funny in there and I hope you like all the other bits. Enjoy!
> 
> Thanks to my amazing beta and cheerleader for reading this all the while as I was writing and keeping me going like always. You are the BEST, babe!
> 
> As for disclaimers, if you are reading this for Accurate Medical Procedure Fic...don't. Honestly. There is NO actual correct medical information in here at all, as well as quite a bit of handwaving. Like, honestly. Please do not read this for any kind of accurate representation of heart conditions, hospitals, nurses, people in the medical field. Anything, really. 
> 
> That being said, it is definitely a fic about someone being ill and having a surgery to fix it up so if that's something you'd rather not read about, consider yourself warned. This is AU in the sense that Harry and the rest of 1D are hospital nurses, but Nick and Aimee and everyone from the Radio 1 side are all their regular personalities. So it's half AU, I suppose? :D
> 
> Any and all mistakes are entirely my own. Please don't read if you are or know anyone depicted in this story. Thaaaaaaanks.

*

 

The day Nick checks into hospital, it’s bright and sunny out for the first time in nearly two weeks. It’s been a cold and rainy fall so far, and the fact that today of all days the sun decides to come out feels like a personal slap in the face from the universe. 

Nick drops his bag in the corner of the room and sighs dramatically as he stares out the window. 

“This is crap,” he says. Behind him Aimee is setting down her purse and coat; he can hear her keys jingling from inside the pocket. He sighs again and cranes his head back to check and make sure she’s giving him the proper amount of sympathy - after all he _is_ checking into hospital for the rest of the foreseeable future - but she’s not giving him anything. The very least she could do would be to come over with a nice pat on the head, maybe a _there, there_ since he’s feeling so stroppy about being cooped up inside, but there’s nothing. 

Nick narrows his eyes and stares. Instead of coddling him like she’s supposed to be doing, he catches her rolling her eyes and laughing at him quietly. Nick’s got the worst friends. 

“You’re the worst friend,” he declares when it’s clear she’s just going to keep ignoring him. She flaps her hand in his direction and moves around the room briskly, yanking the shoddy hospital pillows off the bed and replacing them with Nick’s own that he brought with him from his flat. Nick pulls back on the glare a bit because, well, that’s nice at least. Maybe Aimee’s not _completely_ terrible. 

“I’m an amazing person and a treasure,” Aimee says firmly. She stops when she’s at the foot of the bed and crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes and staring at the plain white hospital sheets and covers. “We should have brought your blankets from home too. I’ll grab them tomorrow before I come up here.”

“These are fine,” Nick says. Obviously they’re not, because this is a hospital and the sheets and room are cold and stark and boring, but it’s nice of Aimee to offer. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, no not at all,” Aimee says. She’s rolling her eyes at him again and Nick would think that maybe - _possibly_ \- she might give him a _bit_ of sympathy, but it doesn’t seem like that’s in the cards for Nick today. Oh well. 

“I’ll just leave you with all the crap hospital bed things and have to hear you bitch and moan every time I come see you about how uncomfortable you are, and why don’t you have your nice things from home, and wah wah, blah blah.”

Nick feels his eyes go wide and he blinks in shock, before he sees a smile twitching at the corner of her bright red painted lips. “ _Wow_ ,” Nick says, voice bubbling with laughter. “Don’t keep anything to yourself, Phillips. It’s not as if I’m having a _heart_ surgery or anything. It’s not like they’re going to _remove_ an entire organ from my body, and then replace it with another one.”

Aimee covers her ears with her hands and starts chanting _la la la la la la_ at the top of her lungs.

“Stop!” she complains. “I told you I get dizzy when you talk about it like that!”

Nick feels himself start to laugh. He goes over and pulls Aimee into a hug, tucking her head against his chest and snugging his arms around her waist and back. “I’m just teasing,” Nick says, then apologizes. “Sorry, love.”

He feels like he’s doing that a lot lately. _Sorry for having to put the show on hold for two months so I can get my stupid busted heart fixed_ and, _sorry that you have to take care of my dog because I’ve got nowhere else to leave her while I’m here_ and, _sorry I’ve got this thing going on in my chest that might make me die if I don’t fix it right away_. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Nick wants to get the surgery over and done with just so he can possibly never have to say the word _sorry_ to anyone about his health again. 

“Don’t be an ass,” Aimee says. She pretends to punch him but she’s really just cuddling closer. Nick closes his eyes and leans his head down on top of hers and they stand there for a minute, not saying anything at all. 

“You’re going to be fine, you know?” she finally says. Her voice is quiet but firm. Nick would maybe lose it a little if Aimee sounded nervous at all and she knows that. Nick has no delusions that his friends aren’t worried about him, but he appreciates that they’ve managed to keep it to themselves for even this long. 

“I know,” Nick says, voice thick and low. He clears his throat and smiles a little. “My main concern about all of this though is…” he lets the sentence trail off. Aimee pulls back and stares up into his face. 

“What, babe?” she asks. 

“Is your idiot boyfriend _really_ going to be able to take care of _two_ dogs while I’m in here?”

Nick laughs and Aimee pulls back to punch him hard on the arm. Nick dances out of her way and grabs his bag from the floor, undoing the zip and taking out the stack of socks and pants he’d packed along with a few pairs of joggers and some t-shirts and his oldest, softest jumper for when he gets cold. 

“He’s going to be _fine_ ,” Aimee says as she takes the stack from him and sets it on a ledge by the window. Nick realizes he’s going to be in a hospital gown for the entire second half of his stay, but until then he can at least have his comfiest clothes. “Pig’s a sweetheart and Ian’s used to Thurston by now. If anything maybe the two of them together will give them someone else to play with and Ian and I won’t have a dog trying to jump in our bed every time we--”

“All right, thank you!” Nick reaches over and covers Aimee’s mouth with his hand to physically stop her from talking. When he thinks about things he would never like to hear about ever again, a story about Aimee and Ian in bed pretty much tops the list. “I appreciate you coming along and helping me get set up today but don’t you have to go now? I’m very busy getting in bed and lying here waiting to get my insides all moved around in a few weeks.”

Nick sees Aimee’s eyes narrow and he can feel her lips curving in a smile from behind his hand. Before he can think to move away she licks his palm and tries to bite him. Nick yelps and pulls his hand back, his fingers smeared with her bright red lipstick and he laughs, easy and bright and pretends to step on her foot. 

Nick realizes how long they’ve been in his room when he glances out the window and sees the sun falling lower in the sky, setting the leaves on the trees in a golden light. His laughter dies down and when he looks back Aimee’s watching him with a soft look in her eye, her head tilted to the side and her bottom lip caught firmly in her teeth. 

“Grimmy,” she says quietly. 

Nick holds up his hand. “Don’t, all right? It’s just--” he shakes his head and takes a deep breath. The back of his throat aches but he swallows past it. He’s got to remember to keep doing that. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Aimee snaps herself out of it, clearing her throat and nodding sharply. “Right. Of course. You’re too much of a stubborn fuck for us to get rid of you this soon.”

Nick laughs, sharp and loud. He’s smiling wide and Aimee smiles back and it’s a real smile this time, the one he’s seen on her face time and time again over the years. Nick bites his lip and looks down, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back from his face. 

He’s fine. He’s going to _be_ fine.

He knows what Aimee means though even when she’s not saying it, so instead of answering her he just pulls her close and hugs her again, dropping a kiss on the top of her head and closing his eyes. “Love you too, Aims.”

*

Nick’s favorite nurse is a girl called Perrie. She’s got bright purple hair and a loud voice with a geordie accent and they met when she was clearing away his breakfast tray on his first morning in his room. She’d said hello and checked a few things off on his chart, and Nick didn’t mean to ask - he really didn’t - but when she looked like she was about to leave he cleared his throat and stopped her from going. 

“Yes?” She asked after he called her name. She was standing at the door with a hand on her hip and one eyebrow quirked. 

Nick smiled awkwardly and picked at a tiny ball of lint from the bedsheets. He didn’t _care_ , really, it wasn’t a big _thing_ , but--

“Oh, nothing,” he started. “Just wondering if you’d listened to the Breakfast Show this morning. On Radio 1,” he added when she just continued to stare at him. “You know, because I’m, well. I wasn’t there today and I haven’t got a copy of it sent to me yet, and I didn’t know if they managed to--”

“Uggggggh,” Perrie sighed, throwing herself dramatically against the doorframe and groaning. “So you’re going to be like that then, are you?” 

Nick blinked. “Like what?”

“Like all…” Perrie had trailed off, waving her hands around in the air and rolling her eyes in an overly grand gesture. She’d not even started talking and Nick could already tell she was about to take the piss. “ _Oh no, I’m so important. Such a big name radio person. How will the nation ever go on without me? Wah wah boo cry._ ” When she finished she beamed at Nick proudly, fixing her hand on her hip and cracking her gum. “Well?”

Nick narrowed his eyes. “Well what?”

“Did I get it right?” Perrie asked. Then she smiled a bit more at Nick’s frown before coming over and rubbing the top of his head playfully. “Aww. You’re adorable.”

Nick batted her hand away and glared. “Are you always this unprofessional?” he asked. It was only his first full day in the hospital so he’d not seen _all_ that many nurses other than Perrie, but none of them had poked fun of him and then messed up his hair. This girl was a _menace_.

“Most of the time,” Perrie had nodded, then clapped him on the shoulder. “Now roll over. While I’m here I’ve got to check out your arse.”

“You _what_?” Nick felt like he was nearing hysteria. What on earth was happening? “Why? I’m here for a _heart_ surgery, what on earth do you need to do with my _arse_?”

“Oh, this part’s not official, love,” Perrie said. She grinned at him brightly then gave him a slight shove, still trying to get him to roll over. “I just promised my boyfriend I’d take a photo of it for him if I got to see you and, well, here you are! You’re really fit and he’s quite the fan, you know,” she added with a sly wink, patting him lightly on the bum.

Nick had promptly burst out laughing and thrown her out of her room. The next three nurses that came in that day weren’t Perrie, and by that night he’d spoken to someone in charge of his care and told him that he wanted only her to see to him whenever she was available. She came back early the next morning with a cheeky smile on her face and her hair pulled back in two high purple pigtails. 

“So,” she said, waggling her eyebrows and waving a camera in the air. “About that picture…”

*

Perrie’s boyfriend is called Zayn and he is quite possibly the fittest bloke Nick’s ever laid eyes on. The first time Zayn comes in with Perrie he drops his eyes and sexily bites his lip when Nick holds out a hand to shake, the tops of his cheeks going pink when Nick curls his fingers around Zayn’s hand and holds on. 

Nick smiles, slow and wide. “Hiya, Zayn.”

Zayn lets out a quiet chuckle then looks up, his pretty brown eyes going soft at the corners. “Morning, Nick Grimshaw.”

“Just Grimmy is fine, love,” Nick says with a wink. Zayn laughs and Perrie hits Nick in the head with a bunch of rolled up papers from his file. 

“Hey,” she snaps. “Settle down, Grimshaw, this one’s taken.”

“Aww, relax, Pez,” Zayn says, then steps away from Nick to curl his arm around her shoulders. 

Nick fixes his eyes on Perrie and smirks. “Ooh, Pez, yeah? Should _I_ start calling you Pez _too_?”

“Dunno,” Perrie says, stepping away from Zayn and fiddling with some of the levels on Nick’s IV drip. “Should _I_ start calling _you_ arseface?”

“Perrie!” Zayn warns. Nick waves him off. 

“Mate, don’t worry. I’m already used to her,” Nick tells him. “It’s you I’m worried about. After all, I’m stuck here with her. _You’re_ with her by choice.”

Zayn laughs quietly and Nick joins him, but it’s Perrie who laughs the hardest, bending over and smacking her knee as she pretends to be in hysterics. Nick honestly has no idea why he’s wound up with a complete nutter for a nurse, but he loves it. 

“Ha!” Perrie shouts. “Ha ha hahahahahaha! You think Zayn has a _choice!_ Sorry, lads, but he’s stuck with me now. No takebacks,” she says, before going over to Zayn and taking his face between her hands and kissing him loudly on the lips. Zayn pulls back, eyes glassy and slightly dazed looking, and touches the corner of his mouth with his thumb. 

“Ugh,” Nick says, and tries to shoo them out of his room the best he can without actually getting out of bed. It’s not that he can’t walk around but he’s been getting more and more tired lately and it’s still the beginning of the day. He’d like to save his energy up so when Aimee and Pixie stop by later he’s not spending half of the time they’re here sleeping. 

“Go, the two of you. Get out,” Nick says. “All this love and snogging is making me ill.” He stops for a second then chuckles. “Or more ill. Iller? Is that a word?”

“You know, you might have a busted heart but there’s definitely nothing wrong with your yapping,” Perrie tells him, lips curving in a smile. 

Nick frowns and holds up his middle finger and she ignores him, coming over to press a kiss to the top of his head and mess up his hair like she’s done every time she leaves for the past two days.

“The _most_ unprofessional,” Nick mumbles, but he’s grinning as he says it and looks down at his lap so no one sees. He can hear Perrie and Zayn laughing though, and when Zayn calls out a goodbye Nick looks up and they’re both watching him fondly from the door. 

“Go. Shoo,” Nick says, flapping his hand in the air. “The pair of you are making me sick with your pretty faces. I need an IV. Someone, get me a nurse - a _real_ nurse - stat!” They’re gone by the time Nick’s done with his yelling, but he can hear them laughing all the way down the hall. 

*

 

The next morning there’s an extremely fit lad standing at Nick’s door just as soon as Nick’s done with his breakfast. He’s got a ridiculous grin on his face and a small box of sweets in his hand and is dressed in the most hideous print hospital shirt Nick’s ever seen, matched with a pair of skinny jeans and dirty grey Converse. His hair is long enough to be pulled back into a bun on the top of his head, but Nick can still tell it’s curly where the short wisps have fallen out and curled around his pretty face. 

“Hullo,” the lad says and waves as Nick stares at him dumbly. His smile is bright and he ambles into Nick’s room slowly, placing the box of sweets on the table next to Nick’s bed and beginning to clear away his tray from breakfast. 

Nick blinks, because he’s not entirely sure he’s not imagining this entire thing. 

“Erm. Hiya,” Nick says. The lad stops moving around and beams and holy bloody hell, his eyes are so _green_. “Um. Who are--”

“‘M’Harry,” the lad says, and holds his hand out to shake. Nick slides his hand against Harry’s on instinct only because he’s quite sure his brain isn’t actually processing anything now other than how fit Harry is, or how good he smells and he should...probably not be thinking things like that while holed up in hospital for the next few months. Actually, scratch that; Nick _definitely_ shouldn’t be thinking things like that, no probably about it. 

Nick clears his throat and pulls his hand away. “Nick.”

“I know,” Harry says, grinning cheekily. Nick must make a confused face because Harry nods to the door where Nick’s charts are all hanging. “It says so right on the papers by the door over there.”

“Ah.” Nick nods and rubs a hand over his mouth. He needs to snap out of whatever kind of fugue state this Harry person has put him in. He literally speaks to people for a _living_. The fact that he can’t seem to put together more than two words at a time in front of a boy with red and purple bicycles printed all over his hospital shirt is ridiculous.

“Erm, where’s Perrie?” Nick asks. 

“Day off,” Harry says and shrugs. He’s moving around the room so slowly it’s nearly putting Nick in a trance. It’s only been a few days but Nick’s already gotten used to Perrie’s manic energy waking him up every morning. Having Harry wander around the room as if he’s moving and speaking underwater is making Nick tired enough to take a nap even though he’s just gotten up. 

“She specifically asked to have me put on your room for the next two days that she’s going to be off, if that’s all right,” Harry says. He’s shoved Nick’s feet over and sat down on the bed with him. His hand is resting on Nick’s ankle and Nick almost wants to pull away because having a fit boy touching him while he’s hooked up to a billion different heart monitors and IV’s is possibly the least sexy thing Nick’s ever thought of, but he manages to leave his leg where it is. It would probably be more awkward to move it seeing as how Harry barely seems to notice he’s put his hand there at all. 

“Yeah, sure,” Nick says distractedly. He has to look away from the fond way Harry’s watching him, and picks up the box of sweets Harry had dropped on the table when he came in. He squints when he realizes what Harry had given him and feels more confused than ever. “Love hearts?”

“Yeah.” Harry beams so brightly Nick’s heart thumps wildly in his chest. Having Harry be his nurse is probably a _terrible_ idea. Nick’s heart is weak enough without having someone as gorgeous as Harry _smiling_ at him at half eight in the morning. 

“I brought them because, did you know that in some places they make sweets just like that but they’re called conversation hearts?”

Nick blinks. “Um. I suppose?”

“Brilliant,” Harry says. He looks so pleased Nick doesn’t have to heart to tell him he’s not following at to what Harry’s getting at at _all_.

When Harry’s quiet for long enough that Nick thinks he’s supposed to be saying _something_ , he finally shrugs and shakes the box of hearts in his hand. “All right, I’ll bite. What’s so brilliant about them being called conversation hearts?”

“Because, Nick Grimshaw,” Harry says, nodding his head and grinning widely. “We’re having a _conversation_...” 

When Nick finally cottons on his eyes go wide and horrified. “Oh my god. You got me conversation hearts because we’re having a conversation, and I’ve got a bad heart. Didn’t you.”

Harry claps. “Yes! You got it!”

“That is…” Nick licks his lips. He’d try and explain to Harry how truly _awful_ his joke was, but he’s beginning to think that the point of it was to _be_ awful. Harry looks so pleased Nick can’t figure out any other option. 

“Are you always this terrible?” Nick asks. 

Harry beams and nods happily. “Oh, I can be worse,” Harry says. “So much worse.”

Nick puts a hand over his eyes and groans. Harry squeezes his ankle and pats soothingly. “There, there, don’t worry,” Harry tells him. “You’ll get used to it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Nick sighs and Harry laughs. 

*

Harry comes back for the rest of the day, and every time he does he’s got another bad pun, or a terrible knock knock joke, or he’s trying to make shadow puppets at the wall with his hands. His big, _big_ hands with his looooong fingers and his silver rings and some kind of stretchy pink bracelet around his wrist. He’s got nice knuckles, Nick thinks idly. Not that Nick has spent the day trying to discreetly check out his nurse or anything, because that would be creepy. 

“It _is_ creepy,” Nick insists in a whisper to Aimee who’s sat on the edge of Nick’s bed, practically undressing Harry with her eyes. As the day has gone on Harry’s hair has fallen more and more out from his bun and by now it’s just barely a few hunks pulled back from his face with the rest of it falling soft around his ears. Aimee’s eyes have been stuck wide open since she walked in nearly an hour ago expecting to find Perrie and was greeted by Harry showing Nick how badly he can do the samba. It’s almost impressive how truly awful Harry is at it.

“You’re insane,” Aimee hisses. Harry turns around and sees her staring. He grins and wiggles his fingers. Aimee clutches Nick’s leg so tightly he can feel her fingernails digging into his thigh and he bats her hand away. “Grimmy, if you don’t make a move on that I will.’

 

“What about _Ian_?” Nick says. 

“Ian schmeean,” Aimee says back. “Have you _seen_ your nurse? I’m sure Ian would understand.”

“I’m not trying to pull my nurse, Aimee Phillips,” Nick says possibly a bit too loudly because Harry stops writing whatever he’s putting in Nick’s chart and looks up slowly from the papers to grin at him. “And neither are you,” Nick chastises. “ _No one_ is trying to date nurse Harry, is that understood?”

Aimee sighs. “ _Fine_.”

Harry blessedly ignores them both, coming over to Aimee and holding out his hand like a complete professional for her to shake as he goes to leave. 

“It was a pleasure, Miss Phillips,” Harry says and winks. 

Aimee looks like she’s about near to pass out. Nick glares at the back of her head and pinches her hard on the hip to snap her out of her trance. 

“You got that right,” Aimee says in what Nick knows she thinks is her sexy voice. Nick wants to throttle her. Instead he just pinches her harder until she turns around and whacks his hand away. “Cut it out, Grimshaw, before I decide to bring every embarrassing picture of you I can find when I come visit you tomorrow.”

“You wouldn’t,” Nick warns. 

“Oh, I would.”

“Please do,” Harry wheedles. He smiles at Aimee, wide and slow and Nick drops his head back into the pillows and closes his eyes. Leave it to Nick and his life to have a more stressful hospital stay than anything he ever has to endure in real life. 

“Don’t you have other patients to see to?” Nick asks weakly. He desperately needs a nap. This entire visit with Aimee has knocked him out. “Please?”

“Yeah, sure, I can take a hint,” Harry says. He pats Nick’s leg, leaving his hand there long enough that Nick can feel the heat from his hand, the press of each individual finger. When Harry takes his hand away Nick shivers. He looks up to find Harry smiling at him.

“Before I go though,” Harry says slowly, and Nick groans because what _now_?

“Knock knock,” Harry says. 

Nick rolls his eyes. “Harold.”

“Knock _knock_ ,” Harry insists. 

Nick sighs. “Fine. Who’s there?”

“Heart,” Harry says around a laugh. He’s stood up now and is backing away towards the door. He trips over Nick’s bag on the floor and nearly hits his head against the wall, just managing to right himself before actually toppling over. 

Nick takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for however this joke is going to end. “Heart who?”

“IT’S HEART TO HEAR YOU, PLEASE SPEAK LOUDER!” Harry bellows. He’s so loud that Nick can see another nurse who was passing behind him in the hall come to a complete stop to stare horrified into Nick’s room. 

Aimee starts to laugh so hard Nick’s worried she might actually cackle herself off the bed. Not that that would be such a bad thing, Nick thinks. He shoves his toes under her thigh and tries to kick her off himself. Harry’s laughing along with her and then she makes a _finger gun_ in Harry’s direction and Harry makes one _back_ and everything is actually, truly, one hundred percent terrible. 

“Oh my god, don’t you have to _go_?” Nick asks. 

“Yes, you’re right, I just--” Harry trips over his own feet and knocks into a cart of some kind out in the hall. “Erm, sorry. Anyway, ok, bye!” Harry says, grinning wide and waving to Nick and Aimee before disappearing out into the hall. 

The room goes quiet so suddenly after Harry leaves it’s almost disconcerting. Nick’s been picking at a string on the bottom of his t-shirt, and when he looks up Aimee’s staring at him with wide, glittering eyes. 

“Don’t say it,” Nick warns. 

“ _Uggggggh_. But why _not_?” Aimee throws her hands in the air. The stack of bracelets she’s wearing jingle as they fall down her arm. “He’s perfect, Grimmy! He’s funny and fit and sweet and seems to like you so much and did I mention he’s _fit_? And--”

“And I’m getting my heart swapped with another in a few weeks time and shouldn’t be thinking about fit boys with long hair and pretty smiles, yeah?” Nick says. 

Aimee goes quiet, pressing her lips together and shaking her head from side to side. “Nick--”

“Look, don’t, all right?” Nick takes Aimee’s hand and squeezes her fingers. Nick knows she only means well; he loves Aimee. He just-- “He’s just being a good nurse. He’s friendly, yeah? That’s all it is. Nothing more than that.”

Aimee looks like she doesn’t agree with him in the slightest but she lets it slide. Possibly the whole _I’ve got a bum heart in my chest that’s trying to kill me_ thing is finally working for Nick.

“All right,” Aimee says. She looks like she’s going to add something but at the last minute changes her mind, shaking her head and choosing instead to pull up the covers and slide under them with Nick. She puts her head on his chest and her arm around his waist and sighs. Nick can feel the press of her lips against his shirt. “Now I don’t know about you, but I’m tired. Want to nap for a bit with me?”

Nick closes his eyes and smiles, kissing the top of her head and settling in to sleep. “I’d love to,” he says, then promptly falls asleep.

*

Nick wakes in the morning to a dull thudding in the back of his head and his throat gone scratchy and dry. He’d spoken to his doctors and read up everything he could about his condition before he went into the hospital, but things like just how shitty the side affects of his meds are, and how tired he is all the bloody time are still sneaking up on him. He rubs his head and fumbles for the bottle of water he’d left on his bedside table, then nearly spills it all over himself when he hears Perrie yelp from the opposite corner of the room. 

“Ahh!” Nick jumps in the bed and nearly rolls out, his arms and legs flailing in his surprise. He just - he’s in the _hospital_ for the love of the Queen, he shouldn’t have to worry about dying of shock first thing in the morning by a purple haired nurse sneaking around his room. 

“What are you doing?” Nick yelps. 

“I was _trying_ to bring you your breakfast like I do every bleeding day,” Perrie grumbles, “but _someone_ left a pile of, what the fuck, are these _scarves_ all over your floor?”

Nick fumbles around to sit up better in bed. He cranes his neck and yep, that definitely looks like a colorful pile of scarves dumped in a heap in the middle of his room. Nick licks his lips and blinks up at Perrie where she’s frowning at him from across the room. “Those appear to be scarves, yes,” Nick says. 

Perrie kicks at the pile with her foot and one of them must have _bells_ because Nick can hear a faint jingling when they fall back to the floor. What on earth is happening?

“Erm, do you know where they came from?” Nick asks. 

Perrie glares and folds her arms over her chest. “I have a guess,” she mutters darkly. 

As if on cue the door to Nick’s room swings open with a flourish and Harry comes in, beaming wide from ear to ear. He’s staring directly at Nick and it’s a bit much if Nick’s being honest; having the full force of Harry’s smile on him this early in the morning is a lot to deal with. He’s not entirely sure having this happen to him every day is good for his waning health.

“Goooooood morning, Nick Grimshaw,” Harry singsongs, voice deep and slow and almost melodic. 

“Hiya Harry,” Nick says trying to keep his voice even. He thinks he does an okay job of it, even if he can see Perrie rolling her eyes at him. 

Harry looks so happy and relaxed as he wanders into the room that it’s comical how high he jumps and how loud the squeaking sound he makes is when Perrie clomps over and surprises him from the corner of Nick’s room. 

“Morning, Harry Styles,” Perrie quips. 

“Ahh!” Harry spins around and nearly falls as his foot gets caught in the same pile of scarves Perrie had tripped over earlier. Nick is watching the two of them stare at each other, his eyes swinging back and forth like this is the most fascinating game of tennis he’s ever seen. Not that tennis is ever fascinating, really, but Nick’s fairly sure he could charge money for people to come in and see Harry wither under Perrie’s glare and he’d make a mint. 

“Perrie?” Harry sounds confused. “I thought you were off today and you needed me to look after Nick.”

“Hmm,” Perrie says and taps her chin. “Switched days off with Tommo because his mum needed help with the kids today.” Harry nods at her, dropping his head when she kicks at the pile of scarves again with her foot. “What’s this then?”

“Scarves,” Harry says evenly. He’s got his hands clasped behind his back, his uniform jacket open enough that Nick can see that today’s shirt is bright yellow with pink and purple flowers all over it. He’s shuffling his feet and keeps his head dropped, bits of hair already falling out from his bun. He’s so pretty it makes Nick’s chest ache. 

“I can see they’re scarves,” Perrie says slowly. She waits for a second but Harry says nothing. Nick can see her roll her eyes at him and has to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing out loud. “Why are they on Nick’s floor, babe?”

“Oh. I, um.” Harry looks at Nick shyly then drops his eyes again. “I love the way Nick dresses and I wanted his opinion, is all.”

Nick laughs. “Really,” he says, taking the hem of his shoddy t-shirt between two fingers and holding it up. “Because this is the height of fashion, I’m sure. I should call Henry, tell him that ratty t-shirts covered in hospy germs are going to be all the rage next season.”

Harry and Perrie laugh so Nick considers his attempt at lightening the mood a win. He nods toward his breakfast tray - because sheesh, Perrie’s stood there holding it captive long enough during this entire conversation - and she brings it over, running a hand over Nick’s hair before stepping away. 

“No, I mean like, I love the way you dress,” Harry says. Nick’s only known him a day but even he can tell that the way Harry got the words out in almost a normal speed means he was rushing to speak. Harry’s cheeks go pink and Nick’s belly warms. He fiddles with his juice container so he has something to do with his hands. “I was going to use one of the scarves for my hair but I wasn’t sure which one. Figured Nick could help me out.”

“So you brought them here in the middle of the night and left them on the floor.” Perrie pats Harry on the back and snickers. “Brilliant. You’re very smooth, Harry.”

“Piss off,” Harry grumbles and pulls his shoulder away. 

Nick can feel himself start to smile. Harry is sweet and Perrie is funny and this whole thing is kind of charming in an absurd sort of way. The two of them have started some kind of whispered argument with lots of glaring (Perrie) and hand flapping (Harry) and Nick’s just doing his best to eat his breakfast and ignore them both. He’s peeling his orange when there’s a soft knock at his door, and Nick looks up to find Harry and Perrie already staring at whoever is coming into Nick’s room now. 

“Oh, hello,” Zayn says sounding surprised. Nick can’t say he blames him. It’s not even eight in the morning and Nick’s already had more visitors than some people have in an entire day. 

Zayn looks from Nick to Harry and then Perrie before biting his lip and running a hand through his hair. He’s wearing a dark green jumper and a leather jacket and holding a pink smoothie with whipped cream in his hand. “Erm.”

“Is that for me?” Perrie asks. She’s smirking though and Nick can tell she clearly knows it’s _not_ for her. “Or Harry, perhaps?”

“No,” Zayn says. “Um. I thought--” He walks over and puts the smoothie down on Nick’s tray, biting his bottom lip and smiling at Nick with his eyelashes lowered. His very dark, very long, very _thick_ eyelashes. Nick feels his mouth opening and closing like a demented fish. He can’t figure out how to stop it from happening. 

“For me?” Nick asks. 

Zayn nods and smiles. “For a happy start to the day,” he says softly. 

“Ugh!” Harry throws his hands in the air. Nick looks from Zayn’s face to Harry who’s pacing the room, huffing and glaring in Zayn’s direction. “You could have said for a _sweet_ start to the day, it would have been much funnier,” Harry says. 

Zayn steps back and rubs a hand over his mouth, winking at Nick before turning around. “Are you judging me because I didn’t turn my gift into a terrible pun?” Zayn asks. 

Harry looks like he’s ready to murder. He’s got his arms crossed and is staring at Zayn with narrowed eyes. Nick sips his smoothie and watches them in delight. 

“I’m just _saying_ what are you doing here?” Harry asks. 

“Actually you didn’t say that at all, mate,” Zayn says lightly. He wanders over to Perrie and kisses her on the cheek. “Hiya, babe.” Perrie is rolling her eyes at him and when he’s close enough she hits him on the side of the head.

“While I’m not too fond of the idea of you getting up early just to come flirt with Nick, I _am_ fond of you aggravating Harry this early in the morning so I suppose I’ll let it slide,” she says.

Nick bursts out laughing because honestly, this entire lot are ridiculous. Zayn laughs and buries his face in Perrie’s neck and Harry’s stomping around the room, picking up his scarves and dumping them in a pile on the table in the corner. Nick’s done picking at his breakfast and he knows he’s only got a bit of time before he gets his treatments for the day, so he’s glad they’re all here distracting him. Watching Harry get so completely huffy at Perrie and Zayn is more entertaining that Nick ever thought it could be. 

“He’s not flirting with Nick,” Harry says, pointing at Zayn aggressively. Zayn bites his lip and smiles, looking back at Nick from the corner of his eye. Nick blows Zayn a kiss and winks at him and Harry turns so red in the face Nick’s concerned his head might actually explode. “He’s _not_ ,” Harry insists. 

“I’m not?” Zayn says lightly. “I brought him a smoothie today, mate. What’d you bring.”

“I brought candy yesterday!” Harry says. He throws his hands in the air. “ _Heart_ candy. Get it?”

“Hmm.” Zayn shrugs a shoulder and looks unimpressed. “Mine was better.”

“What are you even doing here?” Harry snaps. He’s trying to look intimidating but barely looks like an angry kitten. Perrie catches Nick’s eye and mimes shooting herself in the head. Nick laughs into his hand, pretending to cough when Harry looks his way. 

“I mean, you don’t work here,” Harry continues. “Why does security even let you _in_.”

“I’m with her,” Zayn says, patting Perrie on the hip. Perrie beams and cracks her gum. Harry looks thoroughly unimpressed. 

“So what?” Harry says. “I still don’t see how you get everything you want all the time.”

“Please,” Perrie says, sighing dramatically. “Have you seen him? I mean really, Haz. Look at him. Look at that smolder.”

Nick watches as Zayn squints his eyes and stares into the distance, mouth parted slightly and hair falling loose around his face. He looks like he should be on a billboard every day for the rest of his life. Nick sips his smoothie and doesn’t look away until he feels someone smacking him on the bottom of the foot. He looks up to find Harry glaring at him. 

“Excuse you, Nicholas,” Harry says. “Can you put your eyeballs back in your head please? And you,” Harry says, turning his attention to Zayn who’s finally stopped posing and is laughing quietly about whatever Perrie is whispering in his ear. “Fine. You’ve got a good smolder. Now go find Liam somewhere and keep yourself busy, this is _my_ time with Nick.”

“Really?” Nick asks, making his voice sound as light as possible. He just - he’s barely eaten breakfast and this morning has already been a lot. Perrie waking him up and Harry with his scarves and Zayn _smoldering_. Nick’s not sure how any of this is supposed to be relaxing and getting him prepped for his surgery at all. “You’ve got a set time with me and everything?”

Harry smiles at him and Nick feels his stomach go fluttery. Zayn might be the most attractive person Nick’s ever seen in real life, but it’s ridiculous how stupid Harry makes Nick _feel_. 

“Really,” Harry answers. He sits on the edge of Nick’s bed, his hand resting lightly on Nick’s calf. Nick clears his throat and fusses with the covers trying to make more room for him. Perrie must take pity because she comes over and straightens Nick’s pillows behind him, fingers brushing gently over Nick’s hair and pushing it back from his face. 

She runs her hand over Nick’s shoulder, down his arm and squeezes his hand. When Nick looks up her eyes are bright and sparkling. “Be good,” she tells Nick, then kicks Harry’s foot. “You too. Be nice to Nick, yeah? I like him the best out of the three of you.”

“Hey,” Zayn protests. Nick laughs and Harry shakes his head, his fingers curling tighter around Nick’s leg. He tilts his head to the side and looks at Nick, smiling slowly and winking. 

“That’s all right,” Harry says softly. “I think I like him best too.”

*

It starts to be a routine after that, Perrie and Harry arguing every morning in Nick’s room about who likes him best, Zayn coming in sometimes with a drink or some crisps or sweets that he sneaks to Nick with a cheeky grin and a wink. Nick’s still getting his treatments and he’s more and more tired all the time, his appetite getting smaller and smaller as the day of his surgery gets closer, but Perrie takes care of him and Zayn brings him treats and Harry makes him laugh and really, Nick couldn’t ask for anything more. 

*

When Nick’s been in the hospital exactly one week, Harry shows up after dinner in a plain black hospital shirt with a big red heart shaped box of chocolates in his hand. Nick’s sleepy and full. He’d had Aimee and Ian with him all day, Ian telling Nick every detail of what Pig’s been up to for the past week and showing him the three hundred pictures he’d taken of Pig and Thurston playing together, and the visit paired with his shower and dinner and everything else has Nick tuckered out. 

Harry waits by the door and knocks softly until Nick waves him in, and that already is...odd. Usually Harry barrels in all flailing limbs and laughing voice and Nick’s got no say about it whatsoever. The fact that Harry’s so quiet tonight, and waiting to be invited in by Nick is already making things feel a bit off. 

“Hiya, Harry,” Nick says. “Alright?”

Harry smiles and nods. His cheeks are pink, his hair hanging loose the way it does by the end of his shift. He’s shuffling from foot to foot, and after some sort of silent debate with himself he nods his head and breathes out, “Ok,” really softly. 

Nick scrunches his face up and tilts his head. “You having some problems over there, Harold? Should I ring a nurse?” Nick laughs quietly at his own joke and Harry huffs and rolls his eyes but at least it seems like the moods gone a bit lighter. 

“Twat,” Harry says. He shoves Nick’s feet over under the covers and sits down at Nick’s side, thrusting the box of chocolates into Nick’s hands with a mumbled, “Here. These are for you.”

Nick clucks his tongue and holds the box awkwardly in his lap. He runs his finger over the top edge and when he looks back up at Harry, Harry’s face has gone so flushed Nick knows immediately that this is something; that this _means_ something. 

“A box of eight month old Valentine’s day candy?” Nick jokes. He’s trying to make things feel a bit lighter but everything’s gone almost still, the noise from the hall dying down and everything falling almost eerily quiet around them. “Gee, thanks.”

“‘S’not old, you prat,” Harry scolds. He laughs a little then clears his throat. “I ordered it special.”

Nick feels his chest go tight and he curls his fingers around the box to keep them from shaking. Harry’s watching him intently, his eyes are clear and green and staring so softly at Nick and Nick just can’t. He can’t do this. It’s too much. 

“Too many sweets aren’t good for me right now though. Soz.” He tries to hand the box over to Harry but Harry gently pushes it back. Nick frowns. “You’re a bloody nurse, Harry. You should know that me and my busted ticker shouldn’t be eating all of this.”

“First of all,” Harry huffs, “your ticker isn’t _busted_ , it’s being fixed. And second,” Harry continues even louder when Nick opens his mouth to interrupt. “I don’t need you to eat it, just open it.”

Nick sighs. “Harry…”

“Fine, I’ll open it then,” Harry says and grabs the box from Nick’s lap. It’s almost comical how flustered Harry is over all of this. In any other situation Nick would be storing all of this up as ammunition for when he needs to take the piss in the future, but there’s something so heart-breakingly earnest about it all Nick can’t find it in himself to try and make it funny. 

Harry pulls off the lid on the box and a small piece of yellow paper flutters out and falls on Nick’s lap. He instantly recognizes the loopy scrawl that he’s seen all over his paperwork after Harry’s been in to check on him, along with the good morning greeting Harry’s written on the message board in Nick’s room every day. Nick picks the paper up and stares at the words until his vision goes blurry, all the words sliding together before his eyes. 

_will you come to dinner with me. check YES or NO_

Nick feels the back of his throat go tight because Harry’s ridiculous but sweet and so badly wants to say yes. Oh, god, how much does he want that. He can’t though; certainly not now and probably not ever. Even at the best of times Nick’s shit at relationships and boyfriends and anything of the sort. Adding in a heart surgery and recovery and the fact that Harry’s his bloody _nurse_ certainly isn’t going to make this easier. 

 

“As much as I appreciate it, I don’t think I’m going to be going much of anywhere for the next little bit at least,” Nick says voice thicker than he would like it to be. He clears his throat and looks up, forcing a smile on his face. “Thank you though,” he says as he hands the note back to Harry. Harry seems to take it on instinct, curling his fingers around the paper and looking down. “You’re very sweet.”

“Nick,” Harry says. He looks up then and his face crumples a bit. “I just--”

“Not now, love, all right?” Nick pats Harry on the shoulder and smiles as brightly as he can. He doesn’t think Harry believes it - hell, he probably looks more manic than anything else - but it’s all he’s got so he has to try. “You’re sweet. Save the note and give it to Zayn or summat. Perrie would love that.”

Harry laughs, a quick, short sound that bursts from his chest. He looks over at Nick and he’s blushing, his eyes are still a bit glassy, but in the end he just places the note carefully on Nick’s bedside table and puts the box of chocolates on the shelf. 

“Are you trying to get me killed?” Harry asks. His voice is gravelly and thick. He seems to shake the quiet mood off himself and forces a smile on his face. Nick doesn’t believe him but he appreciates the effort. “Perrie would murder me.” 

“Well, yes,” Nick agrees. “That’s true.”

Harry stays for a bit longer that night, until Nick’s eyes are closing and he’s falling asleep in his pillows. Harry keeps the mood light. He doesn’t mention the note again, and neither does Nick, but when Nick falls asleep he can swear he feels Harry’s fingers in his hair pushing it gently away from his face. And when Nick wakes up in the morning the note is still there, propped up on his bedside table, this time with a tiny heart drawn in the corner. 

*

Nick doesn’t see Harry the next morning which is good, seeing as how he’s tired from his meds and cranky from the crap mood he’s been in since he turned down Harry’s offer for dinner the night before. Not even Perrie’s cheeky smile during breakfast or Zayn’s pretty face poking in his doorway from the hall is enough to get rid of Nick’s rotten mood. 

“I’ll just come back when you’re not such a twat, yeah?” Perrie says. She pats his head and flicks his ear and Nick opens his mouth to argue with her - because god, he wants to argue with _someone_ \- but in the end he just lets her leave with a grumpy sigh, before letting his head thunk back into the pillows. 

He must fall asleep because the next thing he knows he’s jolting awake in bed to find two strange lads (very _fit_ lads, but still, lads he’s definitely never seen before) leaning over him and staring into his face. 

“I can’t quite tell,” the prettier of the two says. He’s got a soft, lilting voice and bright blue eyes. “He doesn’t _look_ like that much of a twat, but apparently he is.”

“Don’t be mean, Lou,” the other one says. He lightly punches the one called Lou on the shoulder which earns him a good foot stomping if the way he starts hopping around and whining is any indication. 

“Erm, hello?” Nick says warily. He sinks back into his pillows when the pretty one leans in even closer, then curses when he gets an actual _flick to the forehead_. 

“What the fuck?” Nick yelps. He rubs his forehead and the pretty one leans back, clapping his hands delightedly. Nick is going to ring for security. Surely this can’t be allowed. 

“Who are you?” Nick grumbles. He takes in the way both of the lads are dressed and they’re clearly in scrubs, the one called Lou with a stuffed lion attached to his stethoscope and the other with a full blown Toy Story hospital coat. 

“‘M’Liam and this is Louis,” the Toy Story bloke says, and all right. He’s got names and they clearly work here, but Nick’s still confused. 

“We work in pediatrics,” Louis adds. He picks up the end of his lion and waggles him in the air. The lions tail flicks around and it actually sounds like the stethoscope _roars_. 

“All right, I admit. That’s cute,” Nick sighs. 

Louis beams at him and waggles his eyebrows. “Ahh. Maybe you can be redeemed yet.”

Nick rubs his head because this is all too much. He’s still a bit foggy from his treatments and he’s not had his lunch yet and the nap he just woke up from was completely unexpected so he’s clearly off his game. He definitely doesn’t understand what he needs to be redeemed for, or why two handsome nurses from pediatrics are in here, but what the fuck. It’s not as if Nick’s got anything else to do. He’s got time. 

“Ok, I’ll play along,” Nick says, squinting his eyes and narrowing in on the one called Liam. He’s not sure why but he feels like if there’s one of them Nick can crack it’ll be him. “Why are two lads I’ve never met before in my room leaning over me in bed and trying to _redeem_ me. Have we met before?” Nick adds with a leer. He watches as Liam’s face goes bright pink, and winks at him. “I mean, I think I would remember two blokes as pretty as yourselves if we had.”

“No! No, you haven’t,” Liam splutters. His cheeks and throat and the tops of his ears are flushed. Nick wants to clap he’s so proud of himself. “I mean, not until now, at least. Now we’ve met, but before that - especially the way you’re - I mean, if you _are_ thinking that--”

“Oh my god, shall I call a nurse for you, Liam?” Louis sighs. He’s rolling his eyes and smacks Liam on the side of the head. “Go. Find Perrie and see if this one needs anything or if I can just stay and chat for a bit.”

Nick frowns when Louis refers to him as _this one_ because honestly, he’s got a _name_ and all, but Liam just waves and rushes from the room and Nick’s almost too curious as to what Louis wants to talk to him about to question him. Nick’s only just met Louis but something about the way he’s watching Nick so carefully, and the sharp little grin he’s giving him makes Nick think if he were to try and get into a verbal battle with Louis, well. Nick would probably want to be at his best for that, which being laid up in a hospital bed definitely is not. 

Another time, perhaps. 

“So what can I do for you, pediatric nurse Louis?” Nick asks. 

Louis is wandering around Nick’s room, picking things up and putting them down in the wrong place. Nick’s grey beanie winds up on the wrong chair and his mobile is now closer to him on the bedside table. When Louis turns back to look at Nick he’s crossed his arms and is looking at Nick intently, staring directly at Nick’s face. 

“Why did you turn Harry down?” Louis asks and oh. _Oh_.

Nick licks his lips. “You’re a friend of Harry’s?”

“Have been ever since uni,” Louis says with a nod. “Harry’s probably the nicest lad you’ll ever meet outside of Liam. Not that that should matter to you, because Liam is spoken for,” Louis adds darkly, narrowing his eyes and glaring. 

Nick holds his hands palms up in the air. “Liam is all yours, mate. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Bloody right you wouldn’t,” Louis grouses. He seems to shake himself out of it, but resumes glaring when he starts talking to Nick about Harry. “Anyway, Harry’s terrific.”

“He seems that way,” Nick agrees. 

“He’s fit and funny.”

“Well, he’s certainly _fit_ ,” Nick says. 

Louis watches him for a second before breaking out into a laugh. 

“All right, fine,” Louis agrees. “He’s not funny at all. But he tries!”

“He does try,” Nick concedes. “Quite hard.”

“And you like him, yeah?” Louis asks. 

Nick opens his mouth to deny it, because that would be the easiest thing. He can’t like Harry. He has to make himself _not_ like Harry. 

When he goes to say something though, all that comes out is, “I can’t.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Well that’s stupid.”

“That’s life, love,” Nick answers. Louis looks like he’s about to argue again but Nick holds a hand up and Louis stops. “Look, Harry is sweet, yeah? And he’s gorgeous and lovely and anyone would be lucky to go out with him. I’m just…” Nick looks down and twirls a loose string hanging from the covers. “Now’s not a good time.”

“Then not now,” Louis says flatly. “Another time. One day.”

Nick presses his lips together and shakes his head. “Louis, I don’t--”

“Oh my god.”

Nick whips his head up when he hears Harry’s horrified voice coming from the doorway. Harry’s holding a dish with an ice cream sundae in one hand and two spoons in the other. He looks from Louis to Nick back to Louis again, before his face turns the most interesting shade of purple and he comes into the room, pointing the spoons at Louis menacingly. 

“What are you _doing_?” Harry snaps. “I told you _not_ to bother him.” He whips his head around to look at Nick. “Is he bothering you?” Harry asks. Nick shakes his head but Harry’s not looking at him anymore, staring back at Louis who’s watching him sheepishly. “Lou, what the fuck?”

“Erm, oh, look at that,” Louis says brightly, pulling out his very silent pager and pretending to see a message on it. “Getting paged from my floor. Must be busy down there. Woo hoo,” he adds and actually _whistles_ , before bounding over to Harry and kissing him loudly on the cheek. “Lovely day, it was nice meeting you, Grimshaw. Remember what I said. Bye, Hazza!” 

Louis bustles out of the room faster than Nick’s seen anyone move in days. Harry’s stood frozen in the center of the room, and Nick would feel badly for him if the entire thing wasn’t so hilarious. 

Nick clears his throat. “Erm. Hiya, Harry.”

Harry turns and blinks at Nick, eyes wide and horrified. “What was he _saying_ to you? Oh god, do I even want to know?”

“Well…” Nick hedges.

“Ok. Nevermind.” Harry’s drops his head and starts breathing deeply. Nick can hear him count to five and then he looks up and forces a smile on his face. “I’m going to pretend he was never in here, and that I never saw him, and that you never spoke to him or met him or even knows he exists, all right?”

“Harry, I don’t--”

“Please,” Harry pleads. He grins widely and holds the ice cream out as a peace offering, an almost manic smile on his face. “If I think too hard about what he most likely talked to you about I’ll have to go find him and kill him. So. Ice cream instead?”

Nick laughs and nods, shifting over and making room for Harry on the bed. “Ice cream sounds good,” Nick says, and they don’t mention anything about Louis again. 

*

The problem is that Nick thought Harry had gotten over the whole idea about asking Nick out after the first attempt and then the botched matchmaking job his mates tried the next day. He doesn’t see Liam or Louis again for the few days following their first visit, and while he does see Harry in the mornings and then again in the evenings like usual, there’s never any talk about them dating or going out or anything of the sort. 

“I don’t know why you keep mentioning it,” Aimee teases from over the phone. Nick frowns and rolls his eyes. She’s truly terrible. “After all, this is what you want, right? You want hot Harry to _not_ want to date you or take you to dinner. Because you’re _mental_.”

“Not mental but in the hospital, love,” Nick reminds her. “Getting my heart yanked out in three days. Or does that not ring a bell for you.”

“Exactly!” Aimee says. “Getting your heart swapped and then recovering and then being able to properly _date Harry_.”

Nick shakes his head. “No.”

Aimee sighs. “You’re an idiot, Grimmy.” 

Nick shrugs even though she can’t see him and effectively puts an end to the conversation. 

“Yes, well, that’s not news,” he says. “And anyway, I think he’s over it. He hasn’t done anything or mentioned it again in days.”

As it turns out, Nick is very _very_ wrong about Harry being over it. 

Nick’s lying in bed that night watching the telly when he hears a soft knock at his door. He looks up expecting one of his other nurses or maybe Alexa who said she’d stop by sometime this week, but instead it’s Harry, slowly pushing in a dinner tray. Nick would think that maybe Harry just switched around his shifts because he usually only comes in before Nick gets his dinner, but then he really looks and notices that this isn’t any dinner tray that Nick’s ever seen. 

This one’s got a tablecloth on it, for starters. Nick didn’t even think they made those for hospital carts. It’s also set up with tall flickering candles and silver domed plates and two tall crystal glasses with what’s most likely sparkling water but still manages to look like something far more exciting. Harry’s dressed in regular clothes this time, a dark grey button up with his hair pulled back into one of his fancier headscarves and dark skinny jeans. 

He looks up at Nick and smiles almost nervously, lips quirking in a shaky grin. 

“Hi.”

Nick feels his throat go tight. He presses his lips together and roughly wipes at his eyes. “Harry--”

“I know you said you couldn’t come to dinner with me,” Harry says slowly. He pushes the cart right next to Nick’s bed and starts taking the covers off the plates and stacking them on the bottom of the cart. “So I figured I’d bring dinner to you.”

Nick shakes his head. He honestly has no idea how many times he’ll be able to tell Harry no. “Harry, love, while I’m obviously flattered by all this--”

“Oh god,” Harry interrupts. His face has gone white and his voice wobbles. Nick stops talking because Harry is staring at him so intensely Nick’s got no earthly idea what to say. “Ok, wait. Do you like - are you just not interested in me?” Harry asks. Nick feels his mouth drop open because god, has he really been _that_ good of an actor? “I mean, I just. I figured you were saying no because of all this,” Harry says, gesturing around to the hospital room, “but Aimee told me not to listen to you and to just keep trying. Was she...is she wrong?”

Nick had thought that telling Harry he didn’t want to date him or have dinner with him was the worst thing he could possibly do, but he knows now he was wrong. This right here, being able to do whatever he’s done to convince Harry that Nick doesn’t even _want_ Harry is the worst thing. There is nothing that could be more awful than this, right here in this moment. 

“No, she’s not wrong,” Nick says quietly. He looks down and twists his fingers together in his lap. “I think…” Nick trails off. When he looks up Harry’s watching him so carefully and Nick can’t do it. He can’t possibly lie to him anymore. “I think you’re lovely, Hazza.”

“Then why do you keep saying no?”

Nick laughs, but it’s short and sad. He gestures to the room, then at his own chest. When Harry cocks his head to the side looking at him like he’s confused, Nick starts to feel almost angry for the first time since he’s been in hospital. 

“Do you not see why it can’t work?” Nick asks. “Really?”

“No,” Harry says simply. He shrugs and shakes his head. “I can’t.”

“I’m getting a heart transplant in three days,” Nick says tiredly. He squeezes his fingers together so tight he can feel his knuckles crack. “We met here at a hospital and I’m a patient and you’re my _nurse_ and it just--”

“Oh my god, Nick, you’re not _dying_ ,” Harry says, sounding almost exasperated. Part of Nick wants to shout, _Oh yeah? How do you know?_ but that’s not a thought he’s ever actually allowed himself to have - not consciously at least - and he’s not about to bring it up now. 

“You’re getting a surgery,” Harry continues, “and then you’ll be fine and you’ll be home and we can--”

“It’s not that easy,” Nick says softly. Harry goes quiet, his fingers twitching anxiously at his sides. “I just. Things don’t work out for me in the best of times, yeah? And while this is hard, even when I leave here it’ll be…” Nick trails off because he doesn’t know how to voice all the insecurities that are swirling around in his head. How when he leaves here he doesn’t know how he’s going to feel or if he’ll be able to get around as much as he used to or if he’ll ever have to go through all of this again. He’s got a weak heart, and it’s taken a while for it to be this bad, but at least he’s known what he had. He doesn’t know if his body is going to take to the new heart, or if it’ll be worse, or if…

Nick just doesn’t know. When it comes down to it, that’s the main sticking point. 

“This is nice, what we have, yeah?” Nick says instead. Harry’s eyes are damp. He presses a knuckle to the corner of his eye and nods and sniffles. 

“It is, yeah,” Harry says softly. 

“I like you a lot, Harry,” Nick says, holding out his hand. Harry steps closer and takes it, his fingers soft and warm in Nick’s palm. Nick makes sure Harry’s looking at him and hopes that he can see how much Nick means everything he’s told him already, and then he holds Harry’s gaze, and says, “But it can’t ever be any more than this, all right?”

Harry lifts his chin and sniffles. He squeezes Nick’s hand tighter and it takes him a second, but in the end he nods, and agrees. 

“All right,” Harry says quietly. He lifts Nick’s hand to his mouth and touches his lips to Nick’s knuckles. “Then I’ll be happy to have this.”

*

The day before Nick’s surgery he wakes up to Perrie sticking a full bouquet of some kind of pink and purple flowers in his face and Zayn laughing quietly from behind her shoulder. 

“Oi, wake up,” Perrie says sharply. She hits Nick on the head with the bouquet, and honestly, what the _fuck_?

“Have you lost your mind?” Nick asks. He rubs the spot on his head (because it might just be flowers but he’s bloody _delicate_ , dammit) and peers over Perrie’s shoulder at Zayn. “What’s she on about now?”

Zayn shrugs and Perrie turns around and hits him with the flowers next. Her hair is scooped back into a severe bun this morning and her eye makeup is more sparkly than usual. Nick looks around to see if maybe there’s another nurse in the area who won’t beat him up with foliage in his bed, but he doesn’t find anyone who can come to his rescue. 

“Perrie, love,” Nick says gently. 

“D’you know who these are from?” She yelps. She’s still shaking the flowers, the petals falling lose from the stems and fluttering to the floor. 

Nick licks his lips. He has a feeling the answer to the question is crucial. 

“Erm. No?”

“They’re from me,” Zayn pipes in with. He’s smiling brightly, dark eyes sparkling and a wide grin on his face. “For a good luck with your surgery tomorrow.”

“Aww, you’re sweet,” Nick says, which earns him another whack to the head. “Hey,” he says and glares. 

“Flowers aren’t allowed in ICU,” Perrie says primly. She stares into the center of the bouquet as if it’s her own worst enemy and not a harmless bunch of posies. “Which Zayn would have _known_ if he’d ever _bothered_ to bring some flowers in for _me_.”

And ahhh. Now it makes sense. Nick hides a laugh behind the palm of his hand when Zayn shoots him a sly wink. 

“I’m not even in ICU yet, love,” Nick teases. He holds his hand out and waggles his fingers around. Perrie sneers and slaps the bouquet into his hand and spins on the heel of her shoe. “I’m sure tomorrow you’ll take great pleasure in throwing these in the bin, but for today, thank you, Zayn,” Nick says sincerely. 

“You’re all right, Nick Grimshaw,” Zayn says. He comes over to Nick’s bed and Nick figures he’s going to shake Nick’s hand, but at the last second Zayn leans in, curling an arm around Nick’s shoulder and kissing the top of his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow when you wake up, all right?”

Nick blinks dumbly, because wow. That was…

“ _Oi_ ,” Perrie says again, then smacks Nick’s foot from under the covers. “Eyes inside your head, please.”

Nick laughs, his cheeks going warm and pink when he realizes how he must be staring. He reaches out for Perrie’s hand and pulls her close, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “Be nice to him, Pez. He’s a good one.”

Perrie sighs dramatically, but she does mess up Nick’s hair playfully and step back leaning over to begrudgingly kiss Zayn on the cheek. “Enjoy those today because once you’re up in ICU with the mean nurses they won’t let you have them any more.”

“Aww, Niall will be nice to Nick,” Zayn says helpfully. Nick has no idea who they’re talking about but he’s all for people being nice to him.

“Ooh, you’re right,” Perrie says brightly. She snaps her fingers and bustles to the door. “I’m going to ring him now and tell him to make sure he’s there waiting when you’re out of surgery tomorrow.”

Zayn follows her out with a last wave in Nick’s direction and Nick’s left smiling in bed with a bunch of half busted flowers in his lap. 

*

When Nick’s rolled back into his room later that day after his pre-op testing, his eyes nearly bulge from his head at the amount of people tucked inside. Aimee’s there with Ian and Pixie, and his mum and dad and Andy and Jane and Liv and oh god, Harry right there in the middle of everyone, telling some kind of story that’s got his arms sweeping in wide arcs and his mum near tears in hysterics at Harry’s side. 

Nick rolls his eyes. Lovely. 

“Erm, hello,” Nick calls out. No one pays him any attention. Nick looks over his shoulder at the nurse who’s rolling him in and shrugs. The nurse shrugs back and helps Nick from the wheelchair into his bed, straightening out the covers and getting Nick his water before leaving. Nick waits another second for someone to notice him and when everyone’s still busy yapping about whatever they’ve decided to yap about without him, he puts his fingers in his mouth and whistles around them sharply.

Everyone stops talking at the same time and turns around to look at him. It’s almost comical to see so many faces staring at him in shock.

“Nick!” Jane shouts.

“Grimmy!” Ian calls out.

“Oh, love, there you are,” his mum whimpers. 

Nick can feel his face starting to go pink and he looks down, fiddling with his hands in his lap so he doesn’t have to let anyone see how his eyes are starting to tear up from so many people coming to see him. It doesn’t take long for everyone to crowd around his bed, kissing him hello and patting his hair, and Nick laughs, voice feeling thick and lodged in his throat. 

The only one who stays where he is is Harry, still stood across the room with a soft look in his eyes and a tiny smile on his face. When Nick catches his eye Harry ducks his head a little, but Nick can still hear him when he quietly says, “Hi, Nick.”

“Hiya, love,” Nick says back just as softly. 

“Oh, Nick, you didn’t tell us about your lovely new friend,” his mum says, leaning in and winking dramatically. Nick thinks he might actually die. 

“Mum,” he groans, letting his head sink back into the pillows. Jane and Liv giggle and Nick feels Aimee pinch his thigh. He looks up in time to glare at them all but they’re too busy whispering to each other and laughing like ninnies. 

“He’s so handsome, dear,” his mum adds. “Seems to be quite fond of you, too.”

“Though god knows why,” Aimee says dryly. 

Nick looks up long enough to glare and give her the finger. Aimee claps her hands together and laughs delightedly. His mum smacks him on the side of the head. 

“Language, Nicholas,” she hisses. 

“Anyway,” Nick says, loud enough to be heard over the gaggle of simpering women at his bedside. “Harry and I are just friends.”

“Mm _hmm_ ,” Aimee says and rolls her eyes. 

“God, you’re an idiot,” Jane adds. 

“If you don’t want him can I have a go?” Liv asks, and that’s it. Nick’s actually had enough. 

“What is wrong with you all!” he yelps, voice strangled and crazy sounding. This is _insane_. These people are supposed to be here to cheer him up and wish him luck but all they’re doing is picking on him. “I’m having a _surgery_ tomorrow! Can anyone ever be _nice_ to me?”

“Hey!” Harry interrupts from where he’s stood across the room with Ian and Andy and his dad. He’s got a crinkle between his eyebrows and a frown on his face. “I’m always nice to you!”

All Nick hears is a chorus of _Awwwww_ ’s from the side of his bed, and his dad clapping Harry on the back. “Of course you are, son. Henry here says he’s nice to you, Nicholas,” Nick’s dad calls out. “What are you complaining about over there?”

Nick covers his face with his hands, because as much as he’s trying to be cross he actually can’t stop smiling. 

“Nothing,” Nick calls out. “Nothing at all.”

*

It’s late, far into the middle of the night when Nick’s door opens quietly, someone trying to sneak their way inside. Nick’s been lying in the near dark staring up at the ceiling, trying to calm his nerves since everyone had left just a little after eight and he knows he’s supposed to be asleep - he knows it - it’s just. It’s his _heart_. 

He’s been lying in bed with a hand pressed against his chest for the past few hours, and he can’t stop thinking about it. He knows his isn’t a good heart, he knows it’s weak, but it’s _his_. Tomorrow he’s getting a new one and he’ll not have the one he’s had all his life and that’s...that’s a lot. It’s a lot for Nick to wrap his mind around and accept. He’s not sure how it’s gotten to the point that his surgery is in a few hours and he’s still not gotten used to the idea. 

He looks over to the door and there’s Harry, standing with his hands behind his back and watching Nick with dark eyes. Nick’s heart starts beating faster and he’s fairly sure it’s got nothing to do with his medical condition, but just because it’s Harry. It’s always, always Harry.

“You’re still awake?” Harry says softly. 

Nick nods. He’s trying to figure out how to ask Harry what he’s doing here or why he came but he can’t seem to get any words out. He’d actually had no idea how much he needed to have someone with him until Harry took it upon himself to just come. Nick can’t figure out how Harry knows him so well after such a short time but he does and Nick is so, so grateful for it. 

“I. Um. I didn’t think you had a shift this late,” Nick says. He’s trying desperately to make sure that Harry’s here because he wants to be here, not just because he has to. 

“I don’t,” Harry says quietly. He takes off his jacket and lays it across the chair on the side of the room. Nick watches silently as Harry toes off his boots and takes the tie out of the back of his hair. He’s in a soft looking t-shirt and an old pair of jeans and his socks are bright orange and fuzzy. Harry shakes his hair out and crosses the room and when he reaches Nick’s bedside he takes the covers in his hand and lifts them up, leaning a knee on the bed. 

“Budge over,” Harry says. 

Nick blinks. “Harry, I’m not sure if--”

“Nick, please,” Harry says. His voice is thin and shakes around the words. “I just. I care about you and I want to be with you tonight, all right?” He’s climbed in now and Nick’s shoved over against the wall so Harry’s got room to lie down next to him. His hair spills across Nick’s pillows so pretty, and his body is soft and warm when he curls up against Nick’s chest. 

“I…” Harry takes Nick’s hand in his, sliding their fingers together and Nick thinks it’s a good thing he’s getting a new heart tomorrow, because the way Harry’s looking at him now is shattering the one he has into a million tiny pieces. “This doesn’t have to be a thing, yeah? It doesn’t have to mean anything.” Harry looks up at him and Nick can’t help himself, he leans down and touches his lips against Harry’s forehead. 

“I just want to be with you tonight,” Harry says one more time. He closes his eyes and cuddles in ever closer, slotting his legs with Nick’s and curling an arm around Nick’s waist, and Nick thinks that there’s not one thing that could happen in the world that would make him give this up right now. He knows Harry said it doesn’t have to mean anything because he doesn’t want to scare Nick off but he’s wrong. It has to mean something because it means everything. 

“Thank you,” is all Nick says because that’s all he can say. Harry snuffles quietly and Nick finally closes his eyes and goes to sleep.

*

When Nick wakes in the morning Harry’s already gone. There’s already a slew of doctors and nurses gathered in the room, and when one of them says, “All right. Are you ready?” Nick’s eyes land on a piece of paper he’s not seen before sitting on his nightstand. 

It’s a small red paper folded into a V and standing up next to Nick’s mobile. Nick fingers shake as he picks it up, and when he opens it his old, busted heart gives one last flutter in his chest. 

It’s an outline of a thick, black heart drawn on the paper, with the words _this is for you_ written in the center in Harry’s loopy scrawl. Nick touches it with his finger and smiles. 

“Yeah,” he says, looking up and managing a smile at his doctors. “I’m ready.”

*

Nick’s in hospital for thirteen days after his surgery, a fact which he bemoans to anyone and everyone who’ll listen to him. 

“Thirteen!” He shouts at Perrie on the morning of his fourteenth day. “Thirteen full days and now today is _fourteen_!” 

“My, my.” Perrie clucks her tongue and comes over to not so gently fluff up the pillows behind Nick’s head. Nick thinks she just enjoys bouncing his skull around and being able to call it her job. No, scratch that; he doesn’t think it, he _knows_ it. “ _Someone’s_ certainly a Nasty Nick this morning.”

Nick glares at her. “You’re terrible. Terrible Perrie.”

“Well that’s just sad,” Perrie sighs. She taps a long purple nail against her chin and rolls her eyes. “Doesn’t even rhyme.”

“When am I going home!” Nick shouts. He can honestly not take it in here another second. His surgery had gone perfect - _amazingly perfect_ was what his own actual doctor had said - and yet here he is, still lying in this stinky hospital bed on day flipping _fourteen_.

“Hmpf,” Perrie pouts. She sticks her bottom lip out and Nick would feel bad if he wasn’t ninety nine percent convinced she’s taking the piss. “It’s a good thing I don’t get offended easily or I’d think you didn’t want to see me anymore Nick Grimshaw.”

“It’s not that,” Nick says. He rolls his eyes because this is how it goes every morning so he’s sure he’s not going home _again_ today. Which is...it’s fine. He’s fine here. His friends still come to visit him and he’s got Perrie and Zayn still and Harry...well. Harry comes to see him but he’s been trying to keep his distance, Nick thinks. Which Nick understands. The whole situation is fucked up to say the least. 

“You know I love you, Pez,” Nick says seriously, reaching for her hand. “I’m glad I’m staying because then we can--”

“Oi, enough with the waterworks, Grimshaw, all right?” Perrie says, squeezing his fingers. She’s beaming at Nick now and Nick can’t help the flutter of excitement that springs up in his chest. “You think I want you hanging around here for the rest of my life? I’ve got work to do.”

Nick blinks. He’s holding onto Perrie’s hand so tightly he can’t imagine he’s not squeezing together her delicate little bones, but she lets him, just stands there smiling at him while he starts to freak out, just a little. 

“Perrie, wait, is today--”

“Pack your bags, you lazy arse,” Perrie says, giggling and shrieking when Nick jumps up from the bed to hug her. “You’re getting sprung.”

*

Nick’s almost done packing the last of his shirts and socks when there’s a knock at the door and the shuffle of boots on the floor behind him. He turns around already grinning brightly and finds Harry smiling right back at him, eyes bright green and sparkling. 

“Hiya,” Nick says happily. He’s biting his lip and smiling so wide his face almost hurts. Harry’s smiling back just as brightly though so Nick figures it’s fine, at least for today. 

“Hiiiiiiii,” Harry says back. 

They stand there, grinning at each other stupidly until Zayn knocks at the door and breezes in, walking right past Harry and over to Nick who he grabs in a hug. 

“I’m glad I caught you before you left,” Zayn says. Nick laughs a little at the way Harry’s smile has turned into a frown so quickly it looks almost painful. He’s stood there glaring at Zayn who’s completely ignoring him. It’s hilarious. 

“Did Pez give you both of our numbers?” Zayn continues happily. He winks at Nick who laughs. The little shit is doing this specifically to piss Harry off. Nick really truly loves Zayn.

“She did, yeah,” Nick says. 

“Well, alright then.” Zayn leans up on his toes and kisses Nick square on the mouth. Nick splutters a little and he can hear Harry yelp indignantly from behind Zayn which makes it even funnier. “Make sure you use them, ok? I expect to see you soon.”

“Yeah. Um.” Nick touches his mouth when Zayn winks at him one last time before turning around and smacking Harry on the bum as he passes and heads back out the door. “Bye, Hazza.”

“Yeah, _bye_ ,” Harry yells, then closes the door behind him firmly. 

Nick is laughing so hard he has to sit down on the bed. 

“Ugh, alright, fine. Shut up,” Harry mumbles. Nick only laughs harder. “I mean it,” Harry pleads. He’s laughing himself now, hands covering his eyes and shoulders shaking with it. “God, I’m such a twat.”

“Not a twat, love,” Nick says gently. He stands up and takes Harry’s hands in his, pulling them away from Harry’s face and grinning at him. Harry’s cheeks are pink and his eyes are shining and Nick thinks, _god, I want to kiss him_ so suddenly it makes his hands start to shake. 

He lets go of Harry’s wrists and buries his own hands in his pockets, taking a step back before he decides to say _fuck it all_ and snog Harry right here in the middle of his hospital room. That would be bad. That’s what he’s been telling himself, at least. He might as well keep telling himself that. 

“Erm, anyway,” Harry says. “I came to say, you know, goodbye but not _goodbye_ goodbye. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Nick repeats.

“Right, because. I mean.” Harry huffs and blows a loose strand of hair away from his face, then reaches out and wiggles his fingers around. “Give me your mobile.”

“My mobile?” Nick asks. He digs around in his pocket though and hands it over when he finds it. 

“Yeah,” Harry says. He looks at the mobile then huffs, handing it back. “Password, please?”

Nick grins and taps it in, then watches as Harry starts typing away before handing it back. Nick takes it in time to hear Harry’s own mobile buzzing with a text from his pocket and he smiles. 

“I gave you my number, and then I texted me from your phone so I have yours, alright?” He’s looking at Nick and blinking hopefully. “Because, I mean. Well, we’re friends, yeah?” Harry asks. Something warm and happy flutters in Nick’s chest, because yes, god, how could he ever think of having a life without Harry in it. “And friends text and talk and hang out and things so. We should do that. Sometime, I mean.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Nick says, voice soft and thick. He clears his throat and when Harry takes a step closer Nick tugs him in, hugging him tightly. “Friends definitely do that.”

It’s not until late that night, after Nick’s settled and Aimee’s got him stocked up on food and tea and promised Nick that she’d bring Pig by first thing in the morning that Nick manages to get his mobile out and take a look for Harry’s number. It takes him a few minutes to find it because it’s not in the H’s or the S’s, and it’s not even in the N’s (for nurse) or the F’s (for friends). Nick honestly doesn’t know what Harry possibly could have saved it under. 

He’s just about to ring Zayn or Perrie to try and get it from one of them when he notices it, all the way at the bottom in a small section all on it’s own. There’s no name or text which is why it fell all the way to the bottom, but Nick knows it’s Harry the instant he sees it, because it’s just a single red heart. When Nick clicks into the box there’s nothing else there except Harry’s number and the word _yours_.

Nick can’t stop smiling.

*

Nick’s been home for almost a full week before he asks Harry to stop over. It’s been a lot getting used to his post-op meds and his new routine and dealing with Pig running around and everything else. Aimee stayed with him for the first few days but then she had to go away for work and Nick declined when Ian said he could come stay with Nick instead. He just - he’s going to have to learn how to do everything on his own again _sometime_. He figures now is as good a time as any. 

He’s a bit bored though, and lonely. Pig stays close to Nick after being away from him for so long, but Nick finds that he’s having a lot more conversations with the telly and arguing with himself over what to have for dinner every night than he’d expected. He’s texted with Harry a bunch of times since he’s been home, but their conversations are mostly about how Nick’s feeling and what he’s doing and not anything more exciting than that. Not that Nick is looking for exciting, but maybe...maybe he got used to seeing Harry every day when he was in hospital. And maybe he misses him, just a bit. 

By the time Nick’s finished with his dinner and the idea of staring at the telly by himself for the rest of the night creeps up on him, Nick finally thinks, fuck it, and opens a text. 

_are you working tonight?_ Nick sends, then spends the five minutes it takes Harry to text him back thinking of all the reasons why Harry won’t want to come over. 

_I leave here at eight_ Harry answers. _Why? Are you feeling ok?_

 _Yes, fine. I don’t know._ Nick shrugs as if Harry can see him, then bites his lip and figures what the hell. _If you’ve got no plans and wanted to stop over though that would be fine_

_ooh, fine, huh? Sounds amazing._

Nick chuckles quietly and rubs a hand over his mouth. “Twat,” he mutters, then types in. _All right. I’d actually love it if I could see you_

Harry’s response comes back almost immediately. Nick smiles and doesn’t even try and tamp down the flutter of excitement that bubbles up in his chest when he sees it. 

_I’ll be there as soon as I can. Can’t wait xxx_

*

By the time Harry arrives Nick’s worked himself into a fit the likes of which he’s never seen before. Even Pig has taken to hiding under Nick’s bed to stay as far away from Nick and his crazy as possible. This is just...it’s a lot. Nick’s used to having hookups come back to his house in the middle of the night for a shag, or having his friends over that he has no intention of _ever_ shagging. 

Having Harry come over is like a little bit of both, if Nick’s being honest with himself. Harry’s a friend but Nick certainly wouldn’t mind shagging him at some point in the future, and that - the idea of Nick admitting even just that much right there - has Nick’s heart racing, his hands shaking with nerves. 

Naturally that’s the very second that Harry rings the bell, and in a last burst of nervous adrenaline Nick flings the door open and greets Harry with wild eyes. 

“Hi,” Nick says. He sounds breathless and has clearly worked himself into quite a panic already. Lovely. 

Harry had been smiling but after he takes one look at Nick’s face his eyes go wide and he rushes into Nick’s flat, his hands curled under Nick’s elbows and steering him through the short hall and into the living room. “Are you all right?” Harry says anxiously. Nick can see Harry looking quickly around the room before he shoves Nick down onto the sofa and jumps back up. “I’m going to ring someone. Is it your meds? What’s going on. Why didn’t you tell me something was wrong when I--”

“I’m fine,” Nick says softly. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes one deep breath after another. This is unbelievable. “Harry, I--”

“No, you’re not fine,” Harry says. He sits down at Nick’s side and takes Nick’s face in his hands, tilting his head back and touching his thumbs to Nick’s throat. “Look how flushed you are. Your pulse is racing and you’re _shaking_. God, Nick, I have to call someone.”

“Harry,” Nick says firmly. He slides his hands over Harry’s wrists and pulls Harry’s hands down, twining their fingers together. Harry looks at both of their hands then back up at Nick nervously, teeth set deep into his bottom lip. 

“Nick?”

“I missed you,” Nick says, breath coming out on a whoosh of nerves. He thought it would be hard to admit to, impossible to say, but it’s like once it’s out there everything gets a little bit easier. “I got so used to seeing you all the time and then when I got home and you weren’t here I--”

“You could have told me,” Harry says quietly. He squeezes their fingers together and rubs his thumbs over the back of Nick’s hands. “You can tell me anything. I would come for you whenever you wanted me to, you have to know that by now.”

The certainty in Harry’s voice settles deep in Nick’s bones. He knows he should still be scared of this, of trying to do this with Harry. Nick’s health is still shaky and his life is a bit up in the air, but if there’s one thing he’s starting to realize for sure it’s that Harry would be here with him if Nick would only let him. Harry _wants_ to be here with him. Maybe it’s time for Nick to stop fighting it. 

“I want to kiss you,” Nick says. His voice only wobbles a little bit and Nick calls it a victory. “Can I?”

“Can you kiss me?” Harry asks. He laughs a little, shaking his head and lifting Nick’s hand to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. He looks back up at Nick and his eyes are happy and bright. “Nick, I’ve wanted you to kiss me from the second I met you.”

“So that’s a yes, then,” Nick deadpans. He’s still laughing a little when Harry pulls him in, and then Harry’s hands are on Nick’s face again, tilting his head to the side and touching their mouths together. 

Harry’s lips are so soft, and his hands are warm on Nick’s cheeks and the side of his face. Harry kisses him slowly. His mouth is wet and he makes the softest little whimpers in the back of his throat and Nick can’t take it, he can barely breathe with how much he cares about him. Harry’s watched over him and he waited for him and he’s so, so good to Nick and Nick just - it’s a lot to know that every single thing you’ve ever wanted can actually be sitting right in front of you. It’s a lot to know that he can want Harry, that it’s ok and that Harry wants him back. 

Nick slips his fingers into the back of Harry’s hair and kisses him harder, touching their tongues together and whimpering softly when Harry shivers in his arms. 

“Ok,” Harry says, breaking away from the kiss and laughing breathlessly. “All right. Good.”

“Right,” Nick agrees. “Very good.”

“And you’re _sure_ you’re not having some sort of attack or anything, yeah?” Harry double checks. “Because I mean, your face is still a little flushed.”

“I promise you I’m fine,” Nick insists. “The face is all your fault.”

“Oh, all my fault, yeah?” Harry teases. 

Nick ducks in and kisses Harry again quickly on the lips, just because he can. Harry’s face lights up and he touches his own mouth with the tips of his fingers, smiling around them. 

“All your fault, yes,” Nick says, pretending to be serious. “The flushed cheeks, the smile. All of it. It’s all because of you.”

“Hmm.” Harry reaches over and curls an arm around Nick’s back. Nick lets himself be pulled against Harry’s chest and when they’re comfortable he leans his head on Harry’s shoulder and closes his eyes. “I think I can live with that,” Harry says softly. 

“Good,” Nick tells him. He presses his lips against the steady thump of Harry’s heart, and feels his own heart start to beat a little faster. Nick’s not worried about it though. Not anymore. “I think I can live with it too,” he says. 

 

-END-


End file.
